Murphy's voice was as calm as still water. "And what if I refuse?"
Margaret swallowed softly and slowly stood up.
Moonlight streamed through the window, coating her plain white robe in a silvery sheen.
She paced lightly across the cold flagstones, barefoot. In the moonlight, her silvery-white toenails glistened like pearls.
Her ink-black hair rippled with shimmering light, cascading slowly down her slender back.
As she reached the center of the room and gracefully turned to face Murphy, the candlelight perfectly illuminated her delicate profile.
Beneath her well-defined nose, her full lips glowed with a natural crimson, while her eyes, dark as jade, swirled with a mysterious luster in the candlelight.
The loose robe swayed gently with her movements, vaguely outlining the graceful curves of her figure, yet it couldn't hide her innate noble air.
"Master, would you care to hear a story?" Her voice was as soft as the wind, yet it held an irresistible magic.
